


The Unsung

by ariofthesea



Category: Adventure Time
Genre: Gen, Multi, Mushroom War, Nightosphere, Pre-Ooo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-13
Updated: 2013-04-13
Packaged: 2017-12-08 06:07:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/757968
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ariofthesea/pseuds/ariofthesea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which the reader learns of the woman who birthed a vampire queen to be, even though her own daughter may never learn of her tale.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Unsung

 

**[I. Affair]**

  

     “Lithe,” which was the only name she allowed others to know her by, was a woman with little to say for herself.  She looked and dressed very average; the only feature of hers that was even somewhat remarkable was her jet-black hair, which she cherished and refused to cut.  Even so, she had no desire to draw attention to herself. 

 

     Not that many people would want to have anything to do with an individual who dabbled in the dark arts.

 

     Lithe saw her growing fascination with black magic as a distraction from the ongoing war.  She reasoned that everyone was turning to some form of escapism: alcohol, gambling, mind-numbing game shows...

 

     So why should her method be looked down upon as any worse?

 

     One day, she came across a strange book in the back alley occult shop she frequented.  When she questioned the shopkeeper about it, he told her that it was an anthology of some sort, filled with scriptures about a dimension called the “Nightosphere.”  He then added it was all a bunch of derivative garbage made written by some bored nobodies who were looking to make easy money.  Still, Lithe felt drawn to the book’s allure, and purchased it anyway.

 

***

 

Though she at first believed the scriptures to be rubbish as well, she decided to perform the ritual to summon the supposed “ruler of the Nightosphere.”  After all, she _had_ spent her money on the anthology, and the shopkeeper had a no-returns policy.  Thankfully, it was a ritual she could perform with little trouble; she knew how to produce the hard-to-find bug milk, which was critical for the summoning.   Little did she expect for it to work, and for such a horrifying yet oddly handsome humanoid being to emerge from flames in front of her.  His skin was blue, his ears were long and pointy, and his somewhat wild black hair matched his black suit.  She could only stare in awe as he stood in the flames with such godlike dignity. 

 

He then revealed his more casual manner of speaking when he claimed that he was off to steal souls moments after his summoning, and was about to depart with a mere “see ya.”  Uncertain if he was serious, she grabbed his arm and pleaded for him not to go.  He then pinned her to the floor and proceeded to suck her soul out.  Lithe, though, had fortunately been no fool, and knew to act quickly if she wanted to live.  After kneeing him in the groin to loosen his grip on her arm, in a rapid series of movements, she pulled out a knife she had kept concealed in her shirt and stabbed him in the chest.  When he still moved, she chanted an incantation that paralyzed him temporarily. 

 

     Once the incantation wore off, he complimented her, admiring her courage to stand up to him.  She said that her preemptive knowledge of the dark arts was really the only thing that saved her.  The otherworldly man, who revealed his name to be Hunson Abadeer, was perplexed, as few creatures that weren’t demons seemed to care for such practices.  In a subtle attempt to further deter him from leaving her apartment to suck out other souls, she explained that a war was raging, and that few souls that would satisfy him were left.  Now, there was indeed a truth to her words, as the casualties grew with every passing day.  Yet there were still plenty of humans alive, and therefore, plenty of souls that would slake him.  Still, she sensed that she had his attention, and decided to indulge in talk about her growing fondness for the occult.  He was quite impressed with her knowledge of character alignment, demonology, and magic in general.  After a while, he found that, to his surprise and horror, he was very much charmed by the way she spoke with such zeal.  Never before had he felt so drawn to another being that was not a demon.  As she went on, her movements and her expressions came alive in ways that one would not believe were possible for someone as often reserved as her. 

 

     Lithe finally stopped herself and cleared her throat.  The flames from whence Hunson came had disappeared.  He rubbed the back of his head, admitting that, while he could not express himself as eloquently as she, he could grow bored of the monotony of sucking out souls all the time.  However, he added, a job was a job, and he knew he did his best.  She held up her hand to hide a grin; she never imagined that she would see a hellish creature acting so bashfully.  He gazed upon her with confusion; confusion with himself for allowing this woman’s strange allure to take hold of him.  She, too, felt that indescribable attraction for the demon.  In a fit of ecstasy neither of them truly understood, they collapsed on her couch, their saliva, limbs, and bare skins meshing with one another’s.  For Lithe and for Hunson, the numbness to everything dissipated.

 

 

**[II. Hybrid]**

 

     So it was that Lithe discovered soon after her first summoning of the demon Hunson Abadeer that she was pregnant.  She performed the second summoning to inform him of the news, which, to her surprise, he took rather well.  No, to say he took it well would imply that he felt _somewhat_ thrilled to hear that he would be a father.  Instead, he met her announcement with indifference.  She reckoned that his attitude related to the fact that he was a demon, but that could not have been possible; this was not the man that eventually looked upon her with a warm, human expression on the night of the first summoning.  She had hoped that same look would return when he learned that he would be a father, even if only in the form of a little flicker. But Lithe saw none of that.  Just a vacant gaze. 

 

It was also around this time that she asked if he would, at the very least, stay by her side.  He replied that he could only leave the Nightosphere when summoned, and that he had to attend to business matters.  Lithe felt her hopes for the best sink further.   

 

***

     An autumn, a winter and most of a spring had passed since the first summoning.  Over that period of time, aside from work, Lithe completely shut herself away from the world.  She only made contact with Hunson a few times after the second summoning to inform him how far along she was in her pregnancy, and each time, he appeared just as apathetic as he had the first time she told him the big news.

 

     On the day she was due, a shadow of fear spread over Lithe’s heart.  Indeed, over the course of those nine months, she had been uncertain of what to expect.  However, she was also excited, not just to bear her first child, but to think that she could possibly be the first human to give birth to a hybrid child unlike any mankind had ever seen. 

 

     But perhaps man would not even _want_ to see such a child, and Lithe was fine with that.  The child would then be her and her demon’s miracle, and their miracle alone. 

 

     But thoughts of woman who died during childbirth, both in works of fiction and in reality, seemed to overwhelm her mind on the she was expecting.  And to think that she could possibly stand a chance of surviving the birth of a child who is not fully human...

 

     Lithe shook her head, refusing herself to indulge in such thoughts any longer.  The birth of her child would mark a new chapter in her life, and she would see it through. 

 

     The summoning she performed mere moments before her water broke marked the first time Hunson took her to the Nightosphere with him.  Once in the Nightosphere, her vision was bombarded with blurs of reds and oranges as he led her to a kiddie pool his minions had set up for her.  For the first time in a long while, their eyes connected, and he could see the fear spreading in hers.  He knelt down and massaged her back, and the last thing she remembered before her world faded to black was Hunson whispering something in Dog Latin.

 

***

 

     Lithe awoke to the sound of cooing.  She felt exhausted, and the cadence of her breaths was slow and heavy.  Her fatigue soon turned to joy as her vision came into focus and she saw a grey baby girl in her arms.  There was no mistake that the infant inherited her demon father’s skin and ears.  But if there was one feature that distinctly came from her mother, it was the eyes. 

     Hunson leaned in, and Lithe noticed something different in his eyes.  He no longer appeared indifferent as he had when she had summoned him over the course of those long nine months, but rather, he seemed curious.  Though she didn’t want to ever let go of her daughter, she offered her to him.  Mere moments of holding the infant in his arms brought a look of joy and liveliness to his face that Lithe had never seen from him before.  He offered her his hand, and when she took it, he pulled her up and wrapped his arm around her shoulders.  Lithe wiped the tears forming in her eyes.  In that moment, the emptiness in her heart that had grown out of apathy suddenly was filled with relief, happiness, and hope.  She had a family, and was ready to begin anew. 

 

     Her euphoria withered the instant Hunson declared their child to be his heir as ruler of the Nightosphere.  Lithe then heard a few honest cheers intermixed with half-hearted ones.  At that moment, she became fully aware of her surroundings.  She was in a tower that resembled stalagmites, and from where she stood, she could see a horizon of red and purple extend for what seemed to be forever.  Below her was a small gathering of red and pink demons that appeared even less humanoid than Hunson.                

 

     The more she took in the hellish environment, the quicker her fading joy gave way to silent, boiling anger.  Who was he to decide the future of their child without her consent?  And who was he to confine to such a miserable landscape?  How she started to want nothing more than to snatch the baby away from the demon and will herself back to Earth!     

 

     Yet she knew it wouldn’t be that simple.  Part of her feared that if she made one wrong move or said one wrong little word, she would never see her child again.  Another part of her, as much as she was beginning to hate to admit it to herself, still did love Hunson.  And, she reasoned, if he truly loved her, loved his child, he would at least listen to a negotiation.  Furthermore, he _had_ spared the souls of Earth the previous times she summoned him there...             

 

     Lithe urged him to reconsider, as the child’s future wishes might differ from his.  He looked at her perplexed, and asked her what more would a child of a Lord of all Evil want than the power to rule over chaos?

 

     “Think about it, Lithe,” said he, “you can stay here with me and our little girl in this land of endless chaotic evil!”  

 

     “But this is what _you_ want for our family, not me!”  Lithe protested, her rage beginning to surface.  “Besides, I never said I planned to stay here, nor did I say my alignment was chaotic evil!  And what if it turns out that’s not our daughter’s alignment, either?” 

 

     “Balderdash, baby.  She’s gonna grow up to be like her old man.  Just you watch!” 

 

     Lithe looked away from Hunson to hide her growing disgust with the demon.  She couldn’t deny, however, that his offer to let her stay in the Nightosphere was a tempting one.  She looked out to the horizon again and saw demons and monsters screaming, throwing fireballs, eating one another...little about the chaos around her felt much different than the chaos stirring back on Earth. 

 

     Yet with each passing moment, Lithe thought more about her world, and the trivialities of it the child would not see.  Her daughter would not witness her first autumn foliage and beg to play in the fallen leaves.  Her daughter would not look out from her window in awe at her first snow.  Her daughter would not frolic in the cooling rain, and then come inside a warm house to a cup of caramel tea.

 

     The more Lithe thought of such minute details that her daughter would not experience, the more she realized that she would eventually miss them herself. 

 

     And when she thought about the war that raged on, she began to realize just how limited time might be in general for such minutiae.

 

     At that moment, Lithe knew how to negotiate with Hunson.  She said that she would not object to her daughter becoming his successor if, after allowing her to spend time on Earth and in the Nightosphere, the child came to the decision herself as to whether or not she wanted to be the next ruler.  To Lithe’s surprise, Hunson agreed, but guaranteed that his daughter would embrace the role as his heir.  Lithe also explained that she wanted to raise the child for the first five years of her life; that way, she would at least have memories of her mother’s world in case the war escalated and... 

 

     He simply held up his hand and said that he understood her completely.  He then kissed both Lithe and his baby girl and bid them goodbye, adding that he had a to attend to business.  As Lithe opened her mouth to protest, his minions made a pushing motion towards her.  She suddenly felt herself and her baby being sucked in backwards by an incredible force of energy.  Just before Hunson disappeared from her sight entirely, she could see him grin at her reluctantly.  She hoped that, before she disappeared from his line of vision, he saw the glare she shot his way.

 

***

 

    Lithe felt her body land on the soft surface of her couch.  For several minutes, her body remained still and her eyes remained fixed on the ceiling until she felt her baby shift her weight around on her chest.  As she sat up and held her daughter close, the thought dawned upon her that the child had no name.  Lithe tempted the idea of summoning Hunson so they could discuss possible names, but she decided against it.  After all, since he decided that their daughter would become the next ruler of the Nightosphere without Lithe’s consent, she didn’t see any problem with naming the child without his input.  However, Lithe didn’t spend much time thinking over names, as there were many more concerns troubling her over the course of those long nine months. 

 

     Lithe realized that the child had made no sound when she landed on the couch.  The baby had also stayed quiet for a good majority of the time she spent in the Nightosphere, in spite of its hellish landscapes and intimidating denizens.  That was the moment Lithe knew what to name her daughter. 

 

     Her daughter, who had been such a little trooper back in her father’s terrifying domain.  Her daughter, who she could see remaining strong in the many faces of adversary that would lay ahead in her life. 

 

     Her daughter, her little warrior, her _Marceline_. 

    

**[III. Mother]**

 

     In the first year of the child’s life, it seemed to Lithe that the world she had grown apathetic towards took a turn for the better.  In terms of the war, the fighting on all sides appeared to subside.  Indeed, the war had yet to formally end.  Even so, Lithe began to believe that it would be possible to raise her daughter for the remaining four years while the world stayed in a state of temporary peace. 

 

     Lithe learned soon enough that, in spite of being half-demon, her daughter’s young heart was still very much human.  Little Marceline looked upon everything new in her little world with eyes filled with wonder and excitement.  Lithe always felt warmth fill her chest whenever her daughter smiled her way, or when she giggled and bounced up and down to rhythm of the music on the radio.  She cheered her little one on when she stood for the first time.  She embraced her daughter tight when first walked into her arms.  She picked up her daughter and spun her around when the child uttered her first word, which was:  “Mama.”  For the first half that year, whenever Lithe had to go out, she would dress Marceline so that much of her grey skin and her pointy ears were hidden; she couldn’t do much to obscure the pointy teeth.  As time went on, however, her mother abandoned this practice, and dressed her like other children her age.  Indeed, when mother and child went out, every so often, a stray, uncomfortable gaze would fall upon the half-demon girl.  Lithe always responded to these stares with a glare of her own that told the stranger to look the other way.      

 

     In the span of those first two years, out of all the times Lithe called Hunson, he only appeared twice.  Both of those times were for Marceline’s first and second birthdays.  When he arrived, he transformed from a stoic businessman of a demon into a loving father and husband.  Lithe wanted to show the same love for him, and she truly did wish for the three of them to live as a normal family as best as they could.  Alas, he claimed that his duties as ruler of the Nightosphere would not allow it.

 

     And so the resentment she harboured for him continued to stir within her.

 

     Nevertheless, she found more value and happiness in cherishing her daughter’s growth. 

 

***

 

     As Marceline’s second year of life moved forward, to Lithe’s amazement, she surpassed some of the normal milestones for children her age.  She could string together complex sentences with little difficulty, and sounded unusually eloquent for a two year old.  Her imagination flourished; soon enough, Lithe had to spare seats at the kitchen table for her invisible friends. She threw far fewer tantrums than Lithe had expected from a child her age, but when she did, they tended to be quite severe.  Lithe wondered if her demon lineage played a role in the magnitude of her daughter’s fits.   However, she had little trouble switching from a caring parent to a stern one.  Whenever Marceline threw her larger tantrums, she soon learned that her mother’s firmest voice would always drown out her screams and cries.  Since little Marceline only knew the love of her mother, she didn’t like it when her mother became angry with her.  So when the child calmed down, she would often say: “I’m sorry I hurt you, mommy.”  Once Lithe was also calm, she would hold her baby close, kiss her forehead tenderly, and whisper: “It only hurts me because I love you so much, and I don’t like being angry with you.”

 

***

 

     A month before Marceline turned three, she noticed that her normally calm mother seemed more ornery more often. 

 

     Lithe knew why it was happening.  That year, she did not attempt to summon Hunson as many times as she had previously.  The few times she tried, as she had come to expect, he never showed.  So why should she continue to bother when it became increasingly apparent to her that he would only come on that one day?  Also, she felt she could not explain Hunson’s absence in their lives and her growing frustration with the demon to Marceline in a way that wouldn’t confuse the little girl.  It all just made so little sense, even to _her_ , an adult. 

 

     On the eve of Marceline’s birthday, long after Marceline had gone to bed, Lithe began the summoning ritual.  She hoped to call Hunson as close to her child’s birthday as possible, but when Marceline wasn’t around.  That way, she could confront him once again about his absence from their lives and demand a better explanation other than “business affairs.”  She drew the face on the kitchen floor in India ink, but stopped right before she added eyes inside of the glasses.  For several long moments, her empty gaze did not leave that face.  How she had grown tired of sketching it.  How she had grown tired of its stupid eyebrows and its stupid stubble and its stupid mouth, which housed its stupid buckteeth that she wanted to kick in, all for the sake of summoning that stupid Hunson Abadeer who couldn’t leave his stupid hell because of its stupid “laws” and—     

 

     In a fit of rage, Lithe filled a plastic cup with water and dumped it on the face, smearing the ink so its shape was no longer recognizable.  She then opened the fridge, pulled out the only carton of bug milk she had left, put the opened flaps of the carton to her lips and tossed her head back.  Lithe took a massive swig of bug milk, as if to spite the mere thought of that useless demon and father.  Never having consumed bug milk before, Lithe was not prepared for its overwhelming taste.  She lurched forward and hacked, feeling that she was going to be sick all over the floor.  Thankfully, the rush of nausea receded.  Lithe looked at the mess she made and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.

 

     “Christ…”

 

     She then threw the carton toward the middle of the room and slumped down against the fridge.  As she ran her fingers through her hair and began to take deep breaths to calm herself, she heard a little voice say:

 

     “Mommy?”

 

     Lithe groaned.  She refused to face her daughter, who probably had her large, glassy eyes locked on her mess of a mother. 

 

     “No,” Lithe muttered, “oh no, go to sleep, go to sleep, go to sleep…”

 

     “Mommy, what’s wrong?”

 

     The child’s inquiries of concern and her mother’s murmurs overlapped one another until Lithe finally slammed her palms against the kitchen floor and shouted:

 

     “GO BACK TO SLEEP, MARCELINE!"

 

     After letting out a few exasperated breaths, Lithe turned her head so her eyes met with her daughter’s.  Her expression immediately softened when she saw tears pooling in Marceline’s eyes.  She held out her hand and whispered in the most gentle of voices, “Shh, it’s okay, baby.  I’m sorry.” 

 

     Marceline backed away, shaking her head.  Lithe tempted the idea of getting to her feet and picking up little Marcy, but she figured that the girl might run from her, still upset and frightened.  She sighed and looked down at her feet.  Why couldn’t she keep herself together?  No one deserved to be yelled at that way, especially not her daughter, and _certainly_ not a toddler. 

 

     Lithe suddenly felt her daughter’s tiny arms wrap around her waist. 

 

     “Please don’t you cry, too,” said Marceline.  Lithe, who had become so lost in thought, didn’t realize that her own face was damp until Marceline pointed it out.  She wrapped her own arms around her daughter’s tiny frame and lifted her into her lap.  As she stroked Marceline’s short black hair, in a calm but untrained singing voice, Lithe began to sing:

 

_Be still, restless soul_

_Soon we will sail away_

_To a place where only the happy may stay_

_And there we’ll eat well_

_And then in a bed of toys_

_You can sleep the journey from your eyes_

  

***

 

     A day that Lithe had only hoped would remain in her nightmares arrived half a year later.  Sirens wailed, warning that something deadly was coming.  The prolonged absence of active fighting left everyone unprepared. 

 

Panicking neighbors poured into the streets.  Those with cars had to push away the strangers who tried to pack themselves in.  All flights had been cancelled, as the enemy was airborne.  In little time, all trains had been delayed, and the highways and causeways were packed with bumper-to-bumper traffic.  There were even a small number of reports of people taking everything with them and trying to leave on foot.  

 

     Lithe and Marceline were running an errand at the time the sirens blared.  Lithe knew of no bomb shelters nearby, and since they would be no safer at home—

 

     Home.  The only bug milk was there.

 

     Panic and confusion almost consumed Lithe.  How could she be so careless not to carry with her, especially at a time like this?

 

     _Because you’ve had no use for him,_ her thoughts replied, _he’s never shown up when you’ve tried to summon him.  You know this all too well._

 

     _But I don’t even need him,_ she argued to herself, _I just need to get us out of here!_

_And you think you’ll be any better in that hell they call the Nightosphere?_

 Lithe stopped short.  There was a good point to that question: why would she want to take her daughter back to that land of chaos and a father who didn’t care?

 

     Her thoughts were interrupted when a building situated only a block in front of exploded.  Lithe pulled Marceline into her arms and shut her eyes.  When she opened them again, she saw that the destruction had left the quickest path back to her home blocked with debris.  At that moment, she knew:

 

     _At least in the Nightosphere, so long as she’s the daughter of its ruler, no one will try to kill her indiscriminately._

 

     Lithe had no idea if they would make it back to her apartment in time, and she didn’t want to endanger her daughter’s life taking such a risk.  Thinking fast, she grabbed her daughter’s hand and ran over to a manhole.  Lithe pried it open to reveal the dark, dank passage to the sewers below.  She then placed her hands on her child’s shoulders, and her lip quivered as she stared into Marceline’s large eyes.  Without saying a word, Lithe pulled her child into a tight embrace.  She fought back tears, as she knew she had to be strong for little Marcy, who would be shedding plenty of her own tears soon enough.  As Lithe inhaled a sharp breath, she lifted Marceline and began the descent down the passage.  Marceline began to fidget in protest, and when Lithe set her down on the floor, the child’s whimpers turned to shrieks. 

 

     “Mommy, where are you going?!”  She sobbed, tugging at her mother’s clothes as her mother tried to climb back up the ladder.  “MOMMY, COME BACK!  DON'T LEAVE ME!”    

 

     Lithe, unable to hold back a few tears of her own any longer, kept her focus to the light above, trying her best to ignore her daughter’s frantic pleas.  Once she had climbed out, she saw Marceline trying to follow her, but not be able to make it up the first rung of the ladder.  Though her daughter’s face was cast in shadow, she could still see those great, watery eyes begging for her mother to come back down.  Lithe shook her head and told Marceline:

 

     “I won’t be long, baby.  I’m going to get bug milk, and when I get back, we’ll be safe in your daddy’s home.  But you have to promise me you’ll be brave and stay here, okay?”

 

     Though Marceline sobbed a bit harder, she nodded.  Lithe, ignoring another explosion she heard in the distance, did her best to give her daughter her warmest smile.

 

     “That’s it, Marcy.  Just remember how much I love you, and don’t be afraid, my little warrior.”

 

     As she replaced the manhole, her chest tightened as she got one final glance at her child’s fear-stricken, tear-stained face.   

 

     Lithe cut through several alleyways and jumped over a number of fences, successfully avoiding the small explosions that were beginning to increase in numbers.  Though nearly out of breath, Lithe’s mouth hung open in a smile as she closed in on her building.  She was going to make it, and she was going to save her—

 

     A blinding flash of green light flooded the city, followed by a shockwave that leveled countless buildings and sent cars flying.  This was Lithe’s last memory before her world turned black. 

 

**[IV. Mother, Alone]**

 

     A raven-haired woman, who only allowed anyone to know her by the name of “Lithe,” lay in a cavern formed by rubble. She felt as if she was barely there.  The massive weight that sat on her chest and pinned down her legs limited whatever little time she had left there, wherever there was.  She no longer knew.

 

     All she knew at that moment was the echo of a wistful child’s singing that filled her ears.  It took her all of her strength to turn her head to the direction of the child’s voice.  Through the openings between the debris, she saw a familiar little girl draw a picture while she amused herself with her dainty song.  She gasped; that girl was her Marceline!  She was all right?!

 

     Lithe tried to respond with her own song, hoping the girl would hear:

 

_Be still, restless soul_

_Soon we will sail away_

_Soo-soon we...we will..._

    A few violent coughs stopped her from finishing.  What was she thinking, trying to sing when her lungs struggled to keep her alive?  The child looked up at her with sad eyes before fading away.  She held out her hand and said in broken words:

 

     “M...chil...come...whe—you go?!”

 

    Her attempt to call out to her child winded her.  For several long moments, she lay with her head lolling to the side, the cadence of her breaths growing slower and lighter as time passed.  At last, she began to mouth a silent prayer.  It was addressed to no God, no Devil, no deity, no man, but to the dead air around her. 

 

     She prayed that if her child would not be joining her in another life, someone with a kindest heart would ease her suffering in this life, and that they may love her the same way as her mother once had.

**Author's Note:**

> And that's my take on what may have happened if Marceline's mom was human (as of Wondercon 2013, even the writers haven't fully agreed on this, but Pen Ward said it once, and one of the writers said it, so I just went with it). Any feedback would be appreciated! Thank you for reading!


End file.
